


Boys Will Be Bugs

by not_the_sinistertype



Series: Devil Town Trilogy [1]
Category: Phandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, there will be gae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 13:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20448110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_the_sinistertype/pseuds/not_the_sinistertype
Summary: They both have some growing up to do.





	Boys Will Be Bugs

**Author's Note:**

> the format got all messed up but I'm too lazy to fix sorry

_Eight/Nine_

"Phil!" Dan shrieked as the moth flew into the tent, beating its tiny wings frantically as the small boy waved his arms all the same. Meanwhile, Phil sat giggling, but those sounds were drowned out by the squeaks of terror coming from his best friend. "Stop laughing at me and get it out!"

"Hush!" A loud sound came from outside and Dan's panic only grew. 

"Dan, calm down. It was just the neighbour and the moth is just a bug. It's more scared of you than you are of it." The older child carefully cupped his hands around the winged creature, sticking his hands outside the tent and releasing the moth. 

"Zip it, zip it, zip it," Dan chanted as Phil grabbed the zipper of the tent and brought it down to the floor, sealing the two off from any more potential critters. Phil turned back to face his friend who had taken to a corner of the tent. It was only then he realized Dan had tears running down his cheeks. 

"Dan, you're okay now," he moved closer, bringing the brunette into a hug and smiled as he felt tiny hands gripping the back of his shirt. Phil rubbed tiny circle into Dan's back until the younger boy felt comfortable enough to untangle himself.

"Thank you, Phil..." Dan was red in the face, maybe from the tears. He yawned, causing Phil to do the same, and they both giggled at that. "Should we go to sleep?"

"Yeah, that seems like a good idea, it's almost ten." Phil figured, unzipping his sleeping bag while Dan grabbed the stuffed llama Phil had given him when he was six. Phil thought it was sweet that he still had it. Once the two were snug in the warm covers Dan rolled over to face Phil. Phil turned off the lamp that was placed between them.

"I hate the dark..." 

"I can't sleep with that light in my face." 

"Hold my hand?" Dan sounded unsure, reaching out to Phil. Of course, Phil placed his hand against Dan's and laced their fingers together. "Thank you," his voice a little quieter now, and as Dan's grip slowly softened Phil's eyes adjusted to the darkness and in seeing the sleeping figure in front of him, the tiny moths in his chest beat a little bit faster.

But even the sudden bubbles he felt around him couldn't stop the sweet lull of sleep. And with that came the dew settling on the tent, making it a mistake to press against the walls unless you wanted to get soaked. 

Dan had woken first, rubbing the sleep out of his droopy eyes. The plush llama still smiling in his arms when he finally sat up, glancing first to Phil, then to the tent entrance. He made his way slowly to the zipper, pulling it up and open and slipping on the slightly damp slippers he left outside. 

The boy decided not to carry the llama everywhere with him, so he elected to set the animal in front of Phil's face for when he woke up. Then quietly making his way to the glass slider, sticks and dirt crunching underneath, he hummed softly, nothing in particular.

The glass was left unlocked for the two so it slid open with ease and Dan toed off his now dirty slippers and padded across the tiled kitchen. Mr Lester was already awake and had a box of cereal in his hand.

"Good morning, Dan." The man smiled at the little boy, causing dimples to appear on the younger one.

"Morning, could I have some cereal?"

"Of course." A ceramic bowl was fetched from a shelf too high for Dan to have reached on his own. Mr Lester took out the milk and poured some of the sugary breakfast into the bowl, topping it off with the milk and a spoon.

Dan had sat himself down at the dinner table and Mr Lester placed the bowl in front of him. "Thank you."

"No problem." The slider once again opened and a bit of cold air swirled around the room before getting swallowed by the warmth.

Phil was holding the plush llama and smiling softly at the younger. "Morning, Dan,"

"Morning, Philly."

"Why?" Phil stifled a laugh and more wings grew in his chest as he gazed over the content form of the boy in front of him.

He squeezed the llama closer to his chest.

_Eleven/Twelve_

"My mum said no, we have school tomorrow." The two started their climb into the rather unsafe treehouse they had constructed. "But I can stay until eight-thirty."

"Oh, okay. That still gives us an hour and a half at least." Phil reasoned, plopping himself down in his green bean bag in the corner while Dan took up his own. There was a beat of silence between the two until Dan reached over, pushing strands of raven locks out of his friend's face.

"You need a haircut, you mop."

"You have a longer fringe than me," the older retorted. Dan then pulled his hair directly over his nose, the length being just a bit past. Phil copied these actions, his coming to a little above.

"Fine," the younger groaned. They both brushed their hair back, Dan taking a bit longer in adjusting his as if he were looking at a mirror.

"Do you think if our fringes switched directions the universe would implode?" The elder drawled, working his hands into the fibres of his seating like a cat.

"That's silly, Philly."

"Your mum is silly, Spaniel Towel."

"Shut up, you spork," the banter ended then with chuckles resonating off the rotting wood planks. Eye contact followed and at that moment Phil decided the room needed more colour to match what he was feeling.

"We have chalk or paint, right?" Phil stood then, the bean bag rustling as if in protest.

"Don't ask me, it's your house!" Dan laughed. Phil's mouth twitched upwards as Dan's dimples once again made an appearance.

"Let's look, I want to turn this drab treehouse into something that could mask the dangers."

"Alright then," Dan stood too, taking the first initiative to descend the rickety ladder and knew the first thing he wanted to paint.

Phil followed suit, glancing up at the leaky ceiling and the sparks of creation appeared dazzling in front of his eyes.

The two walked into the house, Martyn lounging lazily on the couch surfing through television channels. "Martyn, do we have paint or chalk?"

"I don't know, check the garage?" He offered his little support, but that's where the duo started.

The garage door squealed open angrily and the rifling began, searching for colour until a triumphant "aha" echoed.

"I found some chalk!" Dan held up the tearing box, grin plastered across his face.

"Let's go be artsy then." Phil lead the way out, closing the old door, seemingly much to its creaky relief.

"Thanks for your help, Martyn," Dan patted him on the head as they walked past, and the older had seemed to finally settle on some old cartoon.

"Wait-" Phil stopped dead, causing Dan to run into him, the chalk jumping out of his hands to their death on the tiles. There were minimal casualties of a few cracks, but still.

"Philip!"

"I want to draw on the roof, so I need to get the steppy thingy. I'll meet you up there okay?"

"Fine," Dan's response was drawn out as he bent over to gather the chalk that did spill, not to happy about the amount of blood from the bright red one.

He marched himself out to the yard, glad at that moment for his monkey arms in which he could place the strangely moist cardboard on the lip of the actual structure while he clambered up the rungs.

The box was pushed back once Dan could pull himself into the house before it was picked up once more before getting dropped back down instead to a table.

The boy grabbed a white stick and placed the first line on the far wall while Phil was making his way out to his friend, scaring the crap out of him when the step stool was suddenly flung up into the wood.

Dan managed to get back into the swing of his art by the time Phil hauled himself up. "What are you drawing?"

"You're not allowed to see until it's finished." Phil couldn't see anything from his positioning, so he decided to set his station up with much self-restraint when grabbing his colours.

Black was applied first around the edges and Phil was glad the treehouse wasn't large as he applied a deep blue next.

Time skipped around the duo as they got lost in the worlds of their work up until Dan decided he was finished with his masterpiece. "Tada!"

Phil turned at this but the first thing his eyes landed on wasn't the white chalk on the wood, but the smudges on Dan's cheek emitting some kind of warm lure.

"Well?"

"I- oh, my, god, Daniel." Plastered upon the textured surface was an extremely detailed, giant white spork with the words "Philly is a giant SPORK" scrawled in grey hovering above. "I... I love you, Spaniel Towel."

"Alright, chalk-face." Dan laughed at the joke and the dusting of dark colours making patterns all over Phil's rather pale skin. "Your drawing is pretty good so far I guess."

"Wait until it's finished," Phil wiped away some of the dust from his cheeks, which only made the situation worse, scattering the specks across the span of Phil's cheeks and leaving trails that turned them into more of cat whiskers.

"Daniel! Your mum is here!" The call of Mrs Lester was heard from the planet of their treehouse, causing them to sigh to themselves.

"Bye kitty cat," Dan joked, letting out a small meow as he jabbed Phil, walking past.

"Ow, you spoon!" Phil exclaimed, the sudden feeling causing an unwanted streak of dark purple to appear on the ceiling.

"Bye, Philly!" Dan's head disappeared from Phil's field of view and soon the familiar purr of the sliding glass door was heard. Phil clicked the powdery stick down on the table where the box lay.

He gazed up at his work so far and decided he would finish it tonight, wanting to show Dan after school, so picking up the chalk again, more lines and dust started forming around the room.

Dan at the moment was staring out the window at the passing houses as his mother drove to their own home, the smile gracing his face never fading. That was until the silence in the vehicle was broken by the engine cutting out and a car door opening. 

The boy left the car, maybe swinging it shut a bit too hard due to its shuddering groan. His shoes scuffed across the pavement leading up to the soft yellow door. His mother had already gone inside, the door slightly ajar for Dan to close and lock once he was inside. 

Not wasting any time, he ran up the carpeted stairs needing to escape to the comfort of the room with soft cream walls and misty carpet. It was his second safe space, his room where he could be happy even without Phil. 

The black duvet was comforting as his head hit the pillow, and only after did he remember to pull his shoes off, discarding them somewhere on the floor and knew he would regret wearing jeans to bed, but he couldn't be bothered at that moment. 

It was early, but Dan didn't care that the dark wave of sleep washed over him. Phil himself, chalk still smudged over his face retired to the bean bag, blithely dreaming of his friend's chocolate eyes. The night slipped past all too quickly.

"I'm leaving, Dan!" The voice woke the boy from his slumber and starting that day's dread coupled with the stressful beginnings of the school year. Dan was sluggish as always, hauling himself out of the warm cave of blankets his bed evolved to. Nonetheless, he was already shedding his day-old clothes. 

The white bedroom door opened as the one at the front swung shut, signalling the fact he was alone in the house. This was Dan's cue to make his way into his mother's bathroom. His fingers wrapped around the flat iron nervously.

He had only done this once before and it was with Phil supervising.

Phil was doing the same, having woken with a quiff, he needed a bit of time to settle it down into a rather messy fringe. At least he hadn't burnt his finger a little like Dan was currently in the process of doing.

It didn't look as neat as when Phil helped him, but it mirrored his friend's and that's all he really wanted. He soon retreated to his own bathroom to finish his routine.

Following this was regret of not getting his bag ready the previous night. A majority of the time he would have spent eating a nice bowl of cereal or even making a plate of toast was instead wasted on collecting all the items he was certain were unnecessarily scattered across the house and hastily throwing them into the bag now hissing at the weight.

With a swift glance at the nearest clock, Dan grabbed his house key off the tiny hook next to the door. He remembered to lock it on the way out this time.

It was a long walk to the bus stop that Dan wanted to take. There was one closer, but it was a different bus than Phil's, so the ten-minute walk compared to the five-minute walk was worth it.

Pairs of headlights passed by until the moment Dan felt he had missed the bus somehow, the vehicle pulled up and opened its door for the boy. His eyes immediately darted across faces until he found the soft face of his favourite person.

"Good morning, Daniel," Phil greeted as soon as his friend sat down, shoving his bag to the space at his feet.

"Morning, Phil." Dan almost yawned his response, he couldn't keep his mouth closed and his eyes open, his head dropped to the side but Phil could tell he was still awake.

The older boy carefully manoeuvred his shoulder under the younger's head, creating a rather boney pillow. Dan smiled though, moving his head up a little further and almost settling into the crook of Phil's neck, but he was afraid he would sleep past the bus stop if he got too comfortable.

Phil tore his eyes away from the warm feeling in his chest when he looked into those eyes and instead gazed through the fogged-over window at the passing houses until the building of impending stress. The bus pulling to a stop caused Phil's heart to speed up a few beats. He was perfectly content here on the bus with Dan sleeping peacefully on his shoulder.

"Dan, we're here..." the boy carefully nudged his friend, who's eyes fluttered reluctantly open to Phil, who couldn't quite look away until Dan did, grabbing his bag once the kids in the seat next to them got up. Phil mirrored him, picking up his rather bright blue bag.

The large buildings making up the school were casting small shadows in the low light of the morning, but the way Dan looked as he walked down the pavement towards some odd rows of lockers made the moths in Phil's heart stir.

"You straightened your hair." The older pointed out, reaching to poke the other's fringe.

"Yeah, and I did it without your help." Dan grinned, though knowing full well it would have looked nicer with Phil's guidance, and Phil was thinking the same, but he would never say it out loud.

"Come over after school, I finished my drawing."

"Of course! Does it look snazzy?"

"Duh." They both chuckled a little, reaching the locker bay. Numbers and combinations had been previously mailed to homes, and sadly, Dan's locker was across the bay from Phil's. They reached the younger's first. The schedule was unfolded and proper equipment was put away and taken out.

"We have first, third, fourth, and sixth together." Phil pointed out, reading his own class list.

"Don't forget about me in second and fifth." Dan joked, slamming his locker shut, the metal item crying out.

"Of course not. I'll be at your locker every passing period." The older promised as they walked down the concrete path to Phil's locker, the older stealing glances at his friend the whole way. It wasn't very appropriate, to be staring at your friend with moths in your chest.

"Number one-thousand seven-hundred and fifty-two..." Phil muttered under his breath once they reached the correct aisle and then the rusted hinges of the correct locker. Dan was casually leaning on the next one while his friend fiddled with the lock, a determined look plastered on his face that Dan couldn't help but chuckle at.

"What are you laughing at, gaylord?" But someone else entered the picture to the left of the older.

"Gaylord?"

"Yer, that's what you two are."

"Denis, what are you talking about?" Phil asked, but the only response he got was his locker slamming in his face once he finally popped it open.

"Hey, leave him alone..." Dan moved himself closer two the rising tension.

"What is your problem?" The older asked, his voice still having that politeness that Dan couldn't understand, for he would have dropped Denis if given the chance.

"Pansies like you two, you're not real boys." Denis spat, deciding to move closer to Phil, shove him, at the same time Dan decided to move, earning Denis a swift kick to the knee.

"Ow! You little bitch!" The bully hissed, recovering too quickly for Dan's liking, the fist was also too quick for his liking. He felt the impact split his lip but the blood on his tongue only fueled this sudden hatred between the two.

If he learned one thing from Martyn being like his big brother, is that you always aim for the balls.

After the initial stun and cry of pain, Denis was sent whimpering away. Dan knew he was off to tell a teacher, but frankly, all Dan was focused on was Phil, who he quickly turned all his attention to.

"You okay?"

"You really scared him off..." Phil gave a half-smile, signalling his current state. Dan let out a soft breath, cursing under it.

"Yeah, but I'm going to get in trouble..." Dan wrapped his arms around Phil, pulling him into a hug.

"You shouldn't have done that just because he was picking on me a bit."

"He shoved you. I should have dropped him."

Phil decided it wasn't worth arguing with Dan whether he was justified or not. The teachers, on the other hand, wouldn't be so understanding. "What happened to Denis anyways... just last year he was shorted than us and shy..." he decided to change the subject up. Dan let go so Phil could resume his locker struggles.

"I don't know, but next time he touches you, his face is getting a touch from my fist."

Once Phil's belongings were gathered, the pair walked softly off towards the building with the large four-hundred on the side and made it to room four-o-two- science. "Somethings bothering you, Dan," Phil spoke up. Of course, Dan was bothered, bothered by the sudden change of character from Denis, but he knew Phil saw past this.

"Phil, what does gay mean?"

_Thirteen/Fourteen_

The drawings were still there. An all too realistic drawing of a spork, and an amazing mural of the stars with two brown eyes peering softly down. Phil couldn't help but break down.

Dan went home, he didn't want to think about the possibility that Phil was leaving him, but that was the reality of the situation. Phil was leaving tomorrow, off to the other side of the country. Dan never felt so alone.

Phil didn't want to leave. He had pleaded and begged his parents, they loved Dan too, so why did they decide to move? Phil sobbed that night, crying himself to sleep at three in the morning, passing it off the next day as allergies, his eyes still red and puffy. He didn't tell Dan until the last minute and lost his only friend.

The younger was holed up in his bedroom, his past gulping cries now reduced to broken whimpers and his pillow wet with tears, blankets drawn up over his head. He thought of the blue eyes that always held him in such high regard and Dan never felt like he deserved such praise for doing nothing but existing.

Phil was in love with all the little things about Dan. His sad dimple, the curl of his hair that Dan seemed to hate, and his Winnie the Pooh voice he couldn't quite grow out of. He was in love with the warm mocha colour of Dan's eyes, the soft looks and memories of tears shared together and then the anger that seemed to consume them most of school. He couldn't handle what those eyes did to him. Phil had fallen in love. From the moment their hands laced that once night many years ago, Phil knew his heart belonged to Dan.

But now it was splitting in two.

_Fourteen_

Dan was alone, taking the correct bus and walking to his locker without those blue eyes sparkling next to. It was a warm day, but he kept the scars on his legs covered. He was okay with the heat.

Footsteps echoed on the pavement and up the metal lockers. "Where's your boyfriend, gaylord?" Dan wasn't going to stay calm.

_I just turned fourteen, and I think this year I'm gonna be mean._

**Author's Note:**

> hello yes thank you for the clicks yeet. there will be two more parts to this boi so stick around pls


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